


stay here, honey, I don't wanna share (cause I like you)

by theragingstorm



Series: New Earth-1 [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Banter, Blowjobs, Canon Disabled Character, Cunnilingus, Early Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Love, Missing Scene, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Pre-Flashpoint (DCU), a little bit of, idiots absolute idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: One night early into a rekindled relationship that, unbeknownst to the people involved, that will eventually become a part of so much more.(Takes place between the first and second chapters of Roots.)





	stay here, honey, I don't wanna share (cause I like you)

**Author's Note:**

> It has been literal years since I last wrote smut. I can honestly only hope this turned out okay. 
> 
> For those of you reading this already familiar with Roots, yes, this is That Fateful Night. For those who haven’t read Roots, the context is that this takes place on the Post-Crisis Earth, a couple months after Bruce has returned from the not-dead and to being Batman, and these two have decided to give their relationship another try, albeit slowly. As to what happens next...as Stephanie Brown would say: spoilers. 
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift’s “Delicate.”

The Gotham City night was heavy with late summer.

The pollutant-tanged fog hung low over the tops of the skyscrapers, hot as sauna steam. Search lights, but not the Bat-Signal, pierced the gloomy evening, reaching in vain for hidden stars. Over the ancient stone foundations and rearing turrets of Wayne Manor, streaks of moonlight pierced through the thick air and cast a warm silver glow against the Venetian-glass windows.

Farther into the city, a tower rose above the cement-brick apartment buildings to touch the sky, its illuminated clock face shining through the smog like a jewel deep in a dark mine. At the very base of the clock tower, a cobalt-blue convertible had just pulled up. The top was down, exposing the laughing couple within. The man grinned with pride at her reaction to the story he was telling; the woman threw her bobbed red hair back and forth over her freckled shoulders as she rocked with mirth.

In that moment, on that night, the two of them seemed untouched by responsibilities or the weight of expectations.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you want me to keep going?”

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” she giggled, brushing her hand up over her mouth. “Tell me how it ended.”

“Okay.” Dick rested his forearm on the steering wheel, eyes glimmering with mischief. “So then he said: ‘Donna, please, you are the only person in this world I trust right now. Tell me: where is my daughter?’ And then she said: ‘What are you talking about? She’s been at the hotel the entire time.’ And that’s when Roy realized that he’d risked life and limb running into the Manor in my brother’s clothes in front of _everyone_ , waking Bruce out of his sweet denial that I’m the only one of his kids that’s had sex, for nothing. And to top it all off, he never got his shirt back.”

Barbara howled with laughter, her other hand reaching up to wipe her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, “it shouldn’t be funny. Poor Roy. And poor Jason, god.”

“I consider it payback for when he was thirteen and ate all of Alfred’s cake batter and told Bruce I did it. Still not over that.”

“Don’t pout, Dick,” she teased, brushing the last tears from her eyes and getting slight black smears of mascara on her fingers. Still smiling, she reached into the back seat to get out her wheelchair, muscles clenching as she hoisted it over the doors of his car to the sidewalk. “Night’s getting old, and I want to remember it as a good one.”

The exaggerated sigh quickly cut itself off.

“So…you had a nice time?” he asked hopefully, opening the car door and clambering out. He meandered over to the other side as she carefully edged herself out of the car seat and into her chair. “You weren’t just fake-laughing at my jokes?”

“Dick, how long have we known each other?”

“Right. If you don’t like my jokes, you’ll just roll your eyes or scowl at me.”

“There you go.” She braced herself against the handholds, about to tell him good night…

Before she hesitated.

The steamy air was heavy on her exposed skin, and she thought of all those slinky dresses Kori, confident sensual Kori, loved to give her with a conspiratorial giggle and a promise…one of which Dinah had somehow talked her into wearing that night. The loose black skirt swept the ground, modestly sheathing her legs, but the gold-edged top plunged low over her chest.

Normally, she would’ve slapped someone for telling her that what she was wearing indicated a desire for sex, but in that moment…

She called back the memory of the early night. Bruce had nearly had a heart attack opening the Manor’s front door for her, whereas Steph had offered her compliments and Cass a hearty thumbs-up. Tim had just shaken his head and gone back to his comic book. Damian had quite literally fallen off the couch. Dick had beamed at her and told her she was beautiful, then, when his siblings weren’t looking, winked and pirouetted in a circle, showing off those tight black dress pants.

The poor young waiter at dinner had smiled hopelessly at her, suggesting dishes and wines while blushing at her exposed chest. She'd offered the kid polite nods before turning back to her date, exchanging flirtatious remarks and eyeballing his shoulders underneath the equally tight shirt.

The resulting dance and drive around town had been blurs of motion, both their hair whipping in nonstop motion, swapping jokes and recent happenings at red lights. The elongated city lights had imprinted themselves onto the back of her eyelids, Dick’s laughter in her mind.

For the first time in some weeks, she had barely thought about work or criminal cases for the entire night.

“Do you want to come in with me? Have a drink?”

His head snapped around, eyebrows shooting up.

“Zinda got me a cocktail recipe book for my last birthday. There shouldn’t be any calls tonight, it’ll be really nice and quiet —”

“You know you don’t have to persuade me to spend time with you, Babs,” he interrupted, smiling.

She drew back. Then, tucking a curl behind one ear and staring at her lap, she said nothing; just fumbled her keycard out of her clutch and reached for the door.

 

* * *

 

The second he entered her living room, he made a beeline for the couch; kicking his shoes off and lounging across the cushions.

“Not even gonna help out in the kitchen, Chauvinist Wonder?” she called jokingly, reaching into her liquor cabinet. Two small glasses soon joined the liquor on the countertop.

“Hey, I’m just the dumb meathead of the family, remember?”

“Not only is that not true at all, I seem to recall whipping the sexism out of you at a young age, Mr. ‘I Can Take Her Batman; She’s Just A Girl.’” She mixed some pre-made mint-rose syrup into champagne for him, before pouring herself white wine over ice.

He lifted his head from the pillows.

“Well, Donna helped with the whipping.”

“She does seem like she would.”

Balancing the glasses on the armrests of her chair, she rolled back into the living room, offering him his glass and edging herself up onto the unoccupied half of the couch.

Sitting up, he held his drink towards her.

“To successful date nights.”

Her heart hammering, she touched her glass to his, then drained the entire thing in one gulp.

He took a long draught off his own, then sat up and moved closer to her until their thighs were touching. She tried not to look at the contact point; the too-tight pants highlighting his leg muscles and pulling tight over his crotch.

 _Get ahold of yourself,_ she scolded herself. _You’ve been flirting with him all night. And it’s not like you’re some blushing virgin. You weren’t even one when the two of you were dating for the_ first _time!_

But this inner pep talk failed to address the underlying problem: that throughout the night, she’d been feeling rushes of affection, not just desire, at his teasing and smiling and, well, everything.

She glanced down and swallowed, feeling her throat knot and heat rush to her belly.

Not that the desire was in any way tempered by the affection, of course.

“— Babs? Are you listening?”

Her head snapped up.

“Sorry?”

“I asked if, um…if you’ve had any other good dates recently.” His good mood finally tempered, he swirled the dregs of his drink in his glass. “I mean, since you haven’t said that we’re exclusive again yet, I guess there are still some other people?”

“Oh, um…nothing special. Nobody special.” _Nobody like you._ “Really Dick, tonight was the nicest night I’ve had in weeks.” She leaned in a bit, resting her unoccupied hand on his. He looked back up at her. “You made me really happy.”

“Really?” He still looked doubtful. “Because you’ve been really quiet since we got here, and I was wondering if I really did do something wrong —”

She set her glass down, then took his face in both hands and kissed him.

Judging by the sound of liquid splattering onto her carpet, he’d loosened his grip on his own glass. But as he got over his surprise and kissed her back, trailing his free hand over her hair and down to her dress’s back zipper, she didn’t care.

She hummed against his mouth, caressing his cheek with one thumb before she pulled away. He looked stunned, but there was now a spark of hope in those lovely eyes.

“I didn’t do anything —?”

She pressed her finger to his lips. The top one fell slightly over her polished nail, and she held back a shiver.

“You did absolutely nothing. Except wear those ridiculous pants. Those, definitely, deserve some form of punishment.”

The glitter of hope morphed into a glint of mischief, and he pulled her hand away from his mouth.

“You like what you see?”

“Hmmm.”

“It’s okay to talk about your feelings, you know.” Still holding her wrist in his hand, he pressed a kiss to the delicate blue veins.

“I’m not particularly in the mood to talk.”

“That’s too bad.” He set down his empty glass, before turning his attention back to her. “You know I like to talk, especially with beautiful women who are one of my best friends.”

Her pulse stuttered. She blinked twice, her head slowly turning to the side.

“You really mean that?” she murmured, temporarily faltering. “Even after everything?”

“You know that I do.” He pressed another kiss to her skin, this time against her forehead.

Barbara soaked in the residual warmth, her heart hammering.

“You’re one of my best friends, too,” she sighed. “I…” Her throat stuck, and she couldn’t quite make herself say the “l” word again, not so soon after they were trying this out again — “…care a lot about you.”

“Hmm.” He wrapped her up in his arms, nuzzling her hair. She ran a hand idly up along his thigh, pinching the fabric, wondering when she should start their game up again.

The Tower was air-conditioned, the cool breeze and the omnipresent hum of the machine a welcome break from the stagnant August heat. On the far side of the wall, the old clock face glowed, like her very own moon within her private sanctuary. Beyond that, her work station awaited, the queen’s throne room, where she could always find power in her computers and the voices of friends and allies in her ear.

She nestled further against Dick’s chest, letting herself be enveloped for a moment.

“You doing okay there?” she asked, voice muffled.

“Just wondering.”

“Yes…?”

“Will you want to talk when we’re in bed together?”

The spell was broken. She laughed, tilting back, hair swooshing around her chin.

“‘When,’ huh? Not if?”

He leaned in again, pressing light kisses to her neck.

“Not unless you want it to be ‘if.’”

“I think you already have an idea of what I want…considering that your face is getting awfully close to my neckline.” She sounded embarrassingly breathless.

“What neckline?”

She carded her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly.

“Watch that smart mouth of yours. I don't want you getting all the experience of enjoying your partner’s body tonight.”

To emphasize her point, she slid her other hand under his leg and up, squeezing. He sucked in a gasp against her collarbone, and she smirked.

“Though, that being said…if you take me to my bedroom now, you can make your mouth do something useful.”

“And you make fun of all my lines,” he remarked, but couldn’t manage to keep the excitement out of his voice. It made her smile, despite herself.

Edging off the couch and into a half-crouch, he positioned one hand under her knees, the other around her upper back...then swept her up into a bridal carry.

For some reason, that made her blush.

“Your coach, my lady,” he said in a Victorian accent as he got up and moved towards her bedroom. One hand was positioned dangerously close to her breasts, the other slipping down towards her ass.

“What kind of gentleman dares grope his charge?” she challenged, holding back more giggles. “God, we’re terrible at being serious about this.”

“We’ve known each other too long,” he theorized. “That being said, I do prefer you actually laughing at me instead of rolling your eyes.”

“Night’s not over yet.” She looped her arms around his neck. “Lack of bodily control aside though, you do make a good coach. Straight for your destination, and all that.”

He walked through her doorway, sparing a quick glance the photographs of her assorted loved ones that he already knew by heart, disregarding the blinking lights on her laptop. He lay her down over the soft white sheets on her queen-sized bed, gently pulling her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

“Well, I have another destination besides across.”

“And that is…?”

The grin that spread across his face bordered on devilish.

“Down.”

He sank to his knees, making a show of pushing her skirt slowly up her legs.

“That was cheesy, even for you.” Despite that she couldn’t feel his hands on her legs, she stared eagerly at him, feeling heat pool in her abdomen; a spark traveling down to her clit. “But that being said...”

“Yes, ma’am?” He looked up, the black fabric now bunched around her thighs.

“Hurry up.”

“Happy to.” He shoved her skirt all the way up until it was around her hips then stuck his head between her legs, nibbling and kissing the insides of her thighs, while she struggled to balance herself of her hands and not collapse. Just being able to _watch_ was a trip; she could only imagine what it would be like to feel his touch on her legs.

His kisses migrated up, from nearly down at her knees, then, just barely below the seam of her panties. He pressed a curious finger along the crotch of the material, inciting a shudder, then making a noise of satisfaction to find it already wet.

“Come on,” she groaned, twisting a hand through his hair again.

Dick hummed, leaning back to reach in and shimmy the panties down her thighs, letting them fall naturally past her knees. Then, wasting no time, buried his head back in the apex of her thighs and took a long lick.

She gasped, the one arm supporting her body quaking, the other tightening its grip on his hair.

Emboldened by her reaction, he dipped his tongue into her folds, the tip poking at her entrance. Long, strong licks interspersed with his lips nudging against hers, occasionally flicking his tongue inside of her.

“Good,” she panted, “you’re so very good, _oh_ …”

His lips closed around her swollen clit, alternating a gentle suckling with quick little laps. Heat flushed through her, more arousal pooling between her legs.

“You’re so good,” she sighed, “so sweet, so beautiful. Everything you do for me, you love it, don’t you? Just pull away all the weight of the world from your shoulders and everyone’s expectations of you, stop talking, and just…”

As she kept talking, he visibly shuddered with pleasure; the movements of his mouth increasing in tempo, cocking his head at a slight angle to move better. He lapped at her slit, nose rubbing at her clit as she squirmed above him, eyes shut in concentration. His long lashes fluttered; her shoulders shook.

“Dick, come on,” she insisted. “Get me there, baby, pretty boy…Dick… _Diiiiickkk_ …”

She came shaking, gasping. He looked up at her through those lashes, licking his now-wet, reddened lips obscenely. Looking at him, it was tempting to push his head back down, but she had other ideas in mind.

“How’d I do?” His voice was husky.

“You…” She leaned down until they were nose to nose. “Are so good at that.”

“So you’ve told me.” The next smile wasn’t cocky, but soft. Barbara leaned in further and kissed him, tasting herself on his mouth.

“I think you earned yourself a reward. Get on the bed. And get those pants off.”

Dick eagerly obeyed, scrambling onto her bed and fumbling with his belt. As he did, she slowly unzipped her dress down the back, what little there was in the front falling loose. He paused, eyes going to her fully-exposed breasts.

“Men.”

“If it makes you feel any better...” He made eye contact again. “As nice as they are, they’re not my favorite feature of yours.”

“My hair, huh?”

“Right in one.”

“What is it with you and redheads?” She shucked her dress down her legs and to the floor, lying fully naked across her bed. He was still in his shirt and underwear, erection clearly straining against the fabric of his briefs, the tip poking out of the waistband. She licked her lips slightly.

Dick followed her gaze, then opened his mouth.

“And _don’t_ say it.”

“It had nothing to do with my name, I swear.” He hooked his fingers in his briefs and flipped them off with ease, cock springing free.

“Yeah, sure.”

She shuffled herself closer, positioning the top half of her body over his lap, holding onto his strong thighs and her lips an inch from the tip. The dress shirt was still on, albeit rumpled, and he peered down at her with anticipation as she regarded him. He wasn’t much bigger than anyone else, which would be a surprise to anyone who’d ever heard from his exes, but she liked him that way. Besides, she’d always prioritized skill over size.

Licking her lips, she wasted no time. She had no need to warm him up, and instead immediately wrapped her mouth around the tip; caressing her tongue along the underside.

“ _Fuuuuck_ ,” he moaned piteously, doubling over in shock. No matter how many times she did this, he never got used to it.

She sighed, bracing her weight on one arm and wrapping the other hand around the base, gently fondling. At the same time, she licked a long stripe up the vein along the bottom, pausing to kiss the sensitive spot right at the middle before taking him back into her mouth. On a whim, she rolled and flicked her tongue along his length; quietly pleased by the loud whimper that elicited from him.

So she did it again, this time lower down.

“This,” he panted, “was entirely worth the effort of finding tight pants that weren’t too uncomfortable — _ohh_ my god...” From there, his words became groans, which to her, were encouragement enough.

She hummed, feeling him tense under her touch. Her lips slipped further down again, and his breath hitched —

“Wait — _uhhhh_ — Babs, stop.”

She froze, then immediately pulled off, looking up at him with concern.

“You’re okay,” he reassured her, reaching down and playing with a strand of her hair. “Just didn’t want to come just yet.”

“Oh.” She sat back. Her heart began to race again. “You ready, sweetheart?”

He nodded.

“If you are.”

A sudden grin breaking out over her face, Barbara pulled herself over to the middle of the bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Get your shirt off and get over here.”

“Oh, yes ma’am.”

The last piece of clothing went flying to the floor, and in an instant he was above her and they were kissing again. One warm hand, slightly rough with old scars and callouses, stroked over her tensed shoulder as the other spread apart her legs. Hot excitement dripped between her legs; clit throbbing with anticipation.

“Dick,” she breathed out between kisses, “don’t forget — _mmm_.”

“Right, hang on.”

He scrambled off the bed and started fumbling around in his discarded pants. In his absence, she turned over on her stomach, slipping pillows under her belly before balancing back on her forearms. Her eyes trailed after him as he bent over, and she smirked.

“Got it.” He held up the little square triumphantly. “See, I come prepared. In both senses of the word.”

She rolled her eyes at the pun.

“Ahhh, there it is. My usual reaction.”

“Yeah, now we’re even.”

“Not quite yet.”

There was a flash of tearing foil, and seconds later, he was clambering back over her. She could feel the bed shift as he knelt behind her, pulling her hips up into place. She looked back; he peered at her with tenderness in his eyes.

“Ready?”

She sighed and nodded.

He pushed in, almost achingly slow, and the warmth fanned out from her core up into her chest. Both of them groaned in unison; he pulled out slightly and thrust back in.

“How do you want me?”

“Hard and fast,” she decided. “Go hard and fast. But not too rough tonight.”

Almost instantly, he picked up the pace. The sharp pistoning of his hips quickly took on a steady rhythm, sending shudders through her body and ripples through her hair with every thrust. She felt deliciously full, the sweetness of it all bringing her smile back to her lips.

“You feeling good?” Dick asked, breathless.

Affection seeped into her chest, her whole body now feeling near fit to burst.

“You sweet, wonderful man. I’m doing so well, so so good,” she promised. “I only hope you feel as good as you’re making me feel. Get me there again, that’s all you have to do, baby —”

He hit a particularly sensitive spot and she whined with delight.

“— ohh, so good.”

Barbara dropped her head. A surge of heat began to coil in her belly, slowly at first, then sharply.

“I — I’m —” Her muscles tightened as her orgasm began to hit. “Ohhhhhh...”

She came with a long guttural gasp and moan, twisting her head around to look at him. His handsome face was still lost in pleasure as he coaxed her undone, beads of sweat gathering at his temples and shining on his scarred, beautiful skin.

“Oh, Dick.”

Her voice had became softer. Those lovely eyes met hers.

“You can come now, sweetheart.”

He groaned, his shoulders collapsing slightly as he came undone. Still lost in her haze of pleasure, she almost missed the tiny gush of warmth inside her.

She collapsed, frowning slightly, rolling over onto her back as he pulled out.

“Dick?”

“Uh huh?”

“Did it break?”

He froze for a second. Then in the dim light, held up the sheaf of latex, peering at it.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, then I was probably imagining it.”

He sighed with relief, then tossed it in her trashcan and fell to the bed next to her. She lay beside him with the sheets crumpled around their feet; sweaty and covered in scars, with matted hair and the sleepiness of endorphins.

For a what felt like a long time, they just looked at each other, not needing to say anything. Barbara met his sleepy gaze through her own through her own heavy eyes, reaching out one hand to push hair out of his face. Before she could, he tilted his head forward and leaned into her touch.

She blushed.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against her fingertips, long lashes fluttering. “You always feel so good. Missed this. Missed you.” His head bobbed, falling deeper into the pillow.

Her heart seemed to swell until it was pressing up against her ribs. The coolness, the blessed relief from the late summer heat, was beginning to ghost over her skin; she thought she was going to burst from how right it all felt. 

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. He was startled for a moment, then pulled her close too, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, one warm calloused hand resting against her shattered spine.

“I missed you too,” Barbara confessed.

He sighed, then drifted off. She followed soon afterwards, not bothering to set her alarms or prepare herself for the next morning’s work.

For the remainder of that night, Barbara Gordon let herself rest.


End file.
